Aboard the Bloodmast
by Bad Luck Bree
Summary: The adventures of Bad Luck Bree when she crewed the pirate ship Bloodmast. Got some slight BreeDavy...but only alluded to, as they ain't together.


Chapter I

Apples

Bree sat in the cabin of Captain Hector Barbossa's ship, the _Bloodmast_. She had just joined his crew. Her new captain seemed to be greatly interested in the girl. And who wouldn't be? She was not only unique looking, but had a well-known background.

Bree controlled her nerves, her heart beating about a mile a minute. She was nervous. What if Barbossa decided he didn't want her for his crew anymore? Well…if she showed confidence, it would be all right…

The girl watched as her new captain pushed a bowl of apples toward her. Nodding gratefully, Bree picked one from the bowl, crunching into it with gusto. She hadn't had an apple in ages. Barbossa watched approvingly as she ate it with no regard to manners, juice running down her chin. She ate it all, core, stem, everything. Barbossa chuckled, "'Tis good t' see a young'un with a hearty appetite, Miss Bree."

Bree grinned at him, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and speaking in as casual a voice as she could conjure, "If ye don't have a good appetite ye don't know yore born, that's what I say!"

Barbossa nodded sagely, "Aye, ye be right there, missy." He turned his head, looking over at Bree's broadsword, which was leaning against the corner. He looked up the length of it, commenting, "'Tis a fine weapon ye carry."

Bree licked her fingers, saying, "Aye, 'twas my father's sword. Learned to use it when I was no more'n ten years of age."

Barbossa nodded again, "Ye're quite skilled with that blade as well, so I hear…impressive for a young girl to be able to fight so well with such a clumsy weapon."

Bree smirked, growing more and more confident, and even cheeky, "Clumsy ain't the word, sir. Used properly, it's more'n a match for one o' yer frogstickers."

Barbossa glanced down at his own sword hanging at his side. He grinned, "Frogsticker? Is that what ye said, missy?"

Bree rose, taking her sword from the corner, "Aye, Cap'n Barbossa…frogsticker. Ain't ye ever heard that term afore?"

The captain of the _Bloodmast_ shook his head, chuckling, "No, Miss Bree, I haven't heard that…though I'm sure this blade could gut ye with one go."

Bree unsheathed her blade, casually twirling it with practiced ease, "Is that a challenge? I don't want t' kill me cap'n first day on 'is crew…" She sheathed the sword.

Barbossa stayed seated, feet propped up on the table, "I'm impressed ye can handle that weapon so well. Although I've heard a bit about ye from talk about Tortuga…crewed the _Flying Dutchman_, challenged Davy Jones 'imself…there's a story goin' about that ye killed the Kraken."

Bree didn't meet his eyes, seemingly looking down at her boots. Barbossa could tell that he had said something to upset her a bit. Probably the memories of that living hell, he reckoned. Life on the _Dutchman_ was surely less than pleasant.

But Bree spoke after his last statement, "That story's a lie…Jones just asked me to help 'im…he killed it."

Barbossa pulled his feet down from the table, "Would ye be willin' to tell yer new crewmates those stories? They seemed pleased to have such a famous pirate aboard."

Bree flashed a grin at him, "Pah, famous pirate…ye're one yerself, ain't ye?"

She spotted something tied around Barbossa's wrist, partially covered by his coat sleeve. Too confident for her own good, she leaned over the table and boldly yanked it free. It was a silken piece of sash or something. Bree leaned back to her side of the table, enjoying the reaction on her captain's face. "A famous pirate with a lady?"

Barbossa's face showed embarrassment, and he reached forward, grabbing the trophy away, "Ye cheeky whelp!"

Bree smirked, "Is there a story behind it?"

Barbossa wrapped the silken strip around his wrist, looking at it tenderly. He brought his wrist to his face, sniffing the trophy briefly, his eyes going soft. He then looked at Bree, "Ye're certainly confident in yerself, aren't ye? I could've killed ye if I'd had a mind to."

Bree's smirk disappeared. She fingered the hilt of a dagger she carried, "No…I don't think ye could've. Also, I'm just sayin' the truth."

Barbossa chuckled, "Ye're somethin' else, girl. But it's refreshin' to know there are women who have some spirit left."

Bree scratched at the table surface, "Aye…I've got some spirit."

"To stand up to Davy Jones 'imself, ye must have more in yer left ear than I've had in my whole life," Barbossa said, smiling.

Bree coughed, looking down at the floor. Barbossa wondered if he had said the wrong thing. Bree obviously didn't like hearing anything that had to do with Davy Jones or the _Dutchman_. And who could blame her?

Changing the subject, Barbossa stood, "Well, Miss Bree, I expect ye'll be wantin' to meet yer crewmates."

Bree nodded, "Aye! That I do! So…ye've accepted me?"

Barbossa chuckled again, "I accepted ye when I asked ye to join up. Is that not enough? Do ye want me to go through with some sort of initiation ceremony?"

Bree stood, shaking her head, "I'm good, Cap'n." She moved out of the door, looking back, "But I expect to find out the story behind that strip o' silk."

Barbossa shook his head in amazement, muttering to himself as Bree moved out onto the deck, "In all me years, I've never met anyone that young wi' that much grit." Aye, he'd met several women with spirit, but no one that young, and no one who could brave the _Dutchman_.

Bree had found a new friend in Jack the monkey, who never left her shoulder the whole day. Probably the fact that Bree had long golden hair and allowed him to hang from her braids helped that friendship along. Sometimes Bree would pause in her work and allow him to jump from one shoulder to the other, all the time making those funny noises. Bree had never seen such a funny little monkey. They became fast friends, and as she worked, Jack would give her occasional little kisses on the top of her head or the nape of her neck, or even one on her cheek. Then he would hang down from her braids again, either hindering or helping her with her work.

Bree found work on the _Bloodmast_ rather easy compared to work on the _Dutchman_. Barbossa was a harsh captain, always bellowing out orders mixed with dreadful oaths, but Bree, even though she knew that Barbossa was a totally ruthless and brutal pirate, could sense a sort of bond between the captain and his crew.

Barbossa kept his eye on the girl. He was impressed. She never slacked in her work and worked just as hard as the men. She was strong and had a good, strong voice when she sang along with the others. The men liked her, that was for sure. There were one or two more venturesome men who shamelessly began flirting with her, but they were soon set straight by the sight of bared fangs. Bree was no lady, maybe, but she was no wench, either. And the broadsword on her back let all the men know she was a fighter…and a good one.

Bree sat on a coil of rope near the railing of the quarterdeck, propped up on some tackle and cutting into an apple with her dagger. She cut a piece off, putting it in her mouth and tapping the deck with a toe.

Jack the monkey, who was perched on his master's shoulder, turned and saw that Bree had a snack for him. The little creature hopped down, running across the deck and jumping onto Bree's knee. Bree grinned, angling the slice of apple in her mouth towards him, set between her teeth. Jack reached out and bit off a little bit of the apple slice, chewing. He then snatched the rest of the slice from Bree. Bree grinned, cutting a piece for herself and eating it.

Jack ate his piece and then angled his head up, leaping onto the railing. His little eyes narrowed, as if he was concentrating on something. Suddenly he began screeching out in his own little language, pointing. Barbossa, who seemed to understand the monkey somewhat, or at least know it was urgent, came over. Bree pulled herself up, looking out.

Out a distance there was a small island, close enough to see the opening of a small inlet on the side closest. Bree watched Barbossa pull out his glass, looking into it. Bree's eyes swung back to the inlet. She then saw it. All that time on the _Dutchman_ had enhanced her senses.

The stern of a ship was just disappearing into the inlet.

Bree looked back up to Barbossa. He collapsed his glass, narrowing his eyes. Bree looked back out. There was no way to tell the ship's colors or guns.

"What are we goin' to do, Cap'n?" Bree asked.

Barbossa pursed his lips, thinking. Then he asked her, "Have ye got good eyes, Miss?"

Bree nodded, "Aye, sir…better'n most."

"Good," Barbossa nodded, "We'll just pass on by at a distance. If ye can see anythin' on 'er, we'll make our decision then."

Bree nodded, going off to the bow, Jack perched on her shoulder.

"Miss Bree!"

Bree turned, only to catch another green apple. Barbossa winked at her, "No need to share that one."

Bree grinned back at him, saluting, "Aye, sir!" She stuck her tongue out at Jack the monkey and continued on her way to the bow, crunching into her apple. She was beginning to see why Barbossa liked them so much.


End file.
